Reborn
by Tairanda
Summary: One of the many reborn stories. However, in this one, FMC does not know Katekyou Hitman Reborn. Join in her adventures from birth, throught trials, till love, till death shall part them. Don't know pairing yet.
1. Chapter 1

So warm. So very warm. Why am I warm? It is winter outside. Why is it so warm? Last thing I remember was coldness. Burning coldness. But now it is warm, so that is all that matters. I open my eyes. It stings and it is dark, so I close them again. Now that I pay attention to my surroundings, I feel naked. And some kind of fluid is surrounding me. I try turning to my other side... it is hard. Something is preventing me from doing it easily. A feeling of clumsiness but not really, now that I think about it. How dull. I can't even find the right word to describe the feeling. Ah, wait. I remembered the word. Helplessness. I feel helpless that I can't even turn to my other side without problems. I didn't even know I could feel such a feeling, since usually I went with the flow and didn't have any problems.

How boring. I still am in the liquid-like space. I tried stretching but quickly found my movements to be limited. So I am in a confined space with liquid. And I can't breathe. When I tried to take a deep breath, I quickly stopped, since the fluid surrounding me entered my body and made we want to cough, which I can't do either, if you are wondering. What surprised me was that I found out that I didn't need to breathe. Somehow, don't know how, air reached my lungs on its own.

Counting has officially become my favourite pass-time, since that was the only thing that kept me sane and let me know that time is actually moving forward. Took me many tries but I have learned to count to ten thousand without mixing it up. And that is saying something. I have spent here many days, maybe even a month, if not longer. Stretching has become my second favourite pass-time. Why? Because I learned that after many stretches my bubble, as I have started to call where I am, it becomes bigger for some time, but then it shrinks again. I like when it is bigger, makes it easier to move around.

What's happening. I'm being moved form my bubble. I can feel it. Someone is forcing me out of it. It is getting suffocating tight and I am being pushed out of it, like an icing out of its containment, when decorating a cake. And I'm the icing. And I must say, I will never look at icing the same way. It hurts. And saying it hurts is an understandment.

After some time, which felt like hours, the torture finally ended. But now I am cold. And wet. I felt the liquid from my bubble around me and on me, which felt quite disgusting. I tried to open my eyes for the second time. This time I was greeted by blinding light, so I quickly shut them closed. Where they trying to make me blind? I heard voices around me, but I didn't understand what they said, since they were muffled and in a foreign language. Definitely not English. Suddenly, I was suffocating. I needed air, but before I could remember by myself how to breathe, after months of not breathing, someone took me by my leg and hit my but with such force that my vocal cords burst into a cry or pain and tears sprung my eyes, but I quickly forced them away. I was a big girl and big girls didn't cry from pain. They cried of a broken heart and someone close dead and now was neither the case.

Along with my cry, my eyes opened again. After few moments my eyes got used to the light and I took in my surroundings. I was taken aback on how big everything was. And that I was up-side-down, held by one leg. I glanced around the room and saw that is was a medical room with multiple doctors in it and a female in labour. Wait. Why are they so big? Could it be? No, it can't. It is impossible. Have I been the females womb and been born? That is impossible. This has to be a dream. A bad one. Of all the wacky dreams I have had, this one tops them all. Yes. It has to be a dream. I fell asleep in the burning cold and now am dreaming. It has to be it. Or I am about to have a heart-attack from the shock of being born.

Okay. What to do in shock situation? Ah, yes. Breathe. Take a deep breath, hold it for few seconds and let it out slowly. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Gah! I can't hold my breath for more than two seconds. My lungs are puny. Okay, still, breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Yes. That's it. Just breathe. Everything will be alright. I will wake up from this dream and everything will return back to the way it was.

Odd. Usually I understand what people are saying, but now they are speaking a foreign language. No matter. If I am a baby in this freaky dream, I don't need to understand them. New born babies aren't supposed to understand what grown-ups are talking anyway. And this is just great. My calming activities made me miss my new name.

Now I am being taken away from my new mother to the incubator or what-ever it is called; the room where babies are put to wait for their mothers to get well again and pick them up to take them to their new home. What a horrid place to be. It stinks of pee and poop and other babies are crying. Isn't this place supposed to be sterile? Oh wait. My bed is clean. So another baby pooped in his diapers. Ew. That is just gross. I hope I don't get to that part. Ah, the nurse is coming. Quick. Get rid of that poop. It stinks. And the cries of the brats, I mean, the babies, are giving me a head-ache.

Thank God the nurse heard my silent plea and took the stench away y turning on the ventilator and taking the pooping baby to wash it. Wait. Did I just call a baby 'it'? Meh. Doesn't matter, since I don't know if the baby is a he or she. And what better way to refer to the unknown gender baby than 'it'? Yes, definitely the best. But I am rambling here. But what else I can do than ramble in my head, since I can't talk. Wait. I can't talk? Why I think that I can't talk? Oh, right. I'm a fricking baby. But it doesn't hurt to try, right? And so I tried to say an easy word, but all that came out was a gurgling sound of my saliva making bubbles then bursting. Ew. All that saliva I hadn't swallowed is now dripping down my chin. It is so disgusting. I tried to wipe it off, but my limbs didn't exactly follow my commands, or more precisely, they were so undeveloped that they couldn't do what I told them to do. So I decided to cry, like babies do when they want something, but not with tears. That would be bellow me.

Soon a nurse came to me, to see what I needed. The instant her face appeared above me, I stopped wailing and tried to talk again, letting the saliva drip down my chin, hoping that the nurse would understand that I wanted her to wipe off the liquid off my face. Alas, she didn't understand. She started to coo at me and picked me up and carried me back to my dream mother. I looked at her to see a woman that was to be my mother in this dream to see a heart shaped face and long wavy black hair with no fringe and bangs framing her face. Her eyes were acorn green colour with a yellow flower around her iris. What interesting eyes. I haven't seen such eyes before.

I was put in her arms and my head was moved to her breast. Wait. Breast? Breast-feeding? No way in f-ing Hell. No. Bad me. I must not swear. But still. Breast feeding? Not happening, not on my watch. I put my puny hands on the naked breast and pushed it away, as much as I could, but still it was shoved in my face. I held my mouth shut, as I frowned and pushed the breast away from me. The nurse said something in a confused voice and the breast was covered. How nice. I let out a giggle to let them know I was pleased that their puny brains understood that no breast-feeding was going to happen. At least for now. Hmmm. The woman's hold was warm. Sure, I was in diapers and blanket, but that didn't mean I didn't want additional warmth. After the burning cold and feeling the wombs warmth, I wanted warmth very much. I carved it. So I moved closer to the mother figure, which caused the two females to giggle. Must have been a cute sight, a drooling baby moving closer to its mother. All would be nice if I could get rid of the dripping saliva. Oh, I got an idea. Why not wipe it off in the hospital grown? So I did that. Still think I'm cute? I was taken away from mother. Thought so. Not so cute after all. There was a lot of drool to wipe off, which is why I giggled again.

But in the reality I wanted to cry. I was not waking up, which made me think that I might have died in the snow. Now that I think about it, it was stupid of me not to seek for shelter before falling asleep. It would have taken a miracle for me to survive a winter night out in the snow with no source of warmth. I must have really died. And reborn. As a baby. And why do I still remember my old life. Do all babies remember their old life and then forget it? Or only those whose soul is reborn? I remember reading that souls have multiple lives. The older is the soul, the wiser is the person in life. Of course, it is just beliefs of the living, with no proof to back it up. Would be cool if I don't forget my old life and still have all the knowledge of my old life. School would be so easy, since I would already know everything. Except history and my new language. All I can tell from what I have heard is that it I Latin origin. I hope it is Italian. I always had wanted to learn Italian, but fell asleep before I could. Yes, I'm still having the more pleasant option in my mind that am sleeping and that it is a long dream.

Suddenly, I got very nauseous. So I puked on the nurse. She was not happy. She took me back to the crib and put me in it, after which she went away, probably to clean herself up. I giggled. That was fun. Except the stomach acid aftertaste in my mouth. Hate it. No. Strongly dislike. Hate is a powerful word, just like love, and should not be used lightly. I dislike when people describe shallow emotions with strong words. Anyhow, I'm back in my crib, bored out of my mind. It seems it is time for me to do my favorite past time - counting.


	2. Chapter 2

Time passed slowly. I don't know if it is a good thing that we had a clock in the incubator or not. At least, when I counted time seemed to move faster than watching it tick by. After few more breast-feeding attempts, the nurses understood that I would not be breast fed. So, they gave me warm milk for babies from a bottle. I had resigned myself to bottle fate, since I understood that they would not give me real food or even let me drink the mild from a glass. At least, a bottle was better than the breast. If other babies had their previous life memories, why do they allow themselves to be fed by breast? It sounds so disgusting. Anyhow, if you are wondering, after a day I had given up on the second last strand of belief that this was all just a wacky dream. But I held to the last strand, just in case I woke up.

Days went by slowly, but finally I was put in the baby carriage and taken to my new home. I didn't see much of the road, only blue sky with some clouds. And it was very warm. Must be summer. But then again, I was all rooled up in blankets like a burrito. When we reached our destination by car, my mother went inside, leaving my father to deal with me. I forgave her, since she must have still be tired. I hear child briths can be very vexing and exhausting. My new father, or I thought he was my new father, was a middle aged man with short crooped black hair and azure blue eyes. I couldn't say that we was very handsome, like my mother was beautiful, but he had a certain aura around him that could attract people to him. Like moth to a flame.

I was carried to my new room (I sure use the word 'new' a lot! I'll try to stop that.) to find it quite pleasent, for a baby, but not my taste. The walls were light blue and the ceiling was white. They must have not known whether I will be a boy or a girl, so they made the room good for both gendres. I would prefer purple walls with black and silver decorations and lilac ceiling. I'll get to that look later, when I'm older, since now I am supposed to be too young to have my own taste. I was unwrapped from my burrito and put into a white crib. A white crib in a light room. How clishey. Couldn't have they chosen a dark wood instead?

Hey, hey, hey! Where are you going? My father had turned around and walked away, leaving me alone in my room. You are supposed to entertain me, make me feel comfortable in the new atmosphere, not leave me alone. Oh, wait. I'm not alone in the room. With the courner of my eye I saw someone, so I turned my head in that someones direction to see a tall male in his twenties, probably, with very spiky blond hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in a black striped suit and had a cape over his shoulders, held close with a silver fastening. Was fastening the right word? Was the young adult a my oldest brother? No, mother didn't look that old to have a twenty plus year old son, while my father could. So, half-brother? I giggled at him, and reached my hand to him. But the male only smiled and shook his head. He said something in a foreign language, latin origin, took out and looked in a golden pocket watch, and disappeared while I blinked.

Who was he? And how did he disappear like that? And father didn't seem to notice his presence either, or chose to ignore it. Bad relationship maybe? Anyway, he was very handsome. If my legs wouldn't be jelly already, his smile would have turned them into a jelly. Vey handsome, and charismatic. He also held the aura of an important person around him that could make everyone give him way. And the attraction aura was there, as well. It was even stronger than that of my father. Attraction aura plus very handsome? A 100% lady killer. Gyah! I'm going fangirlish on a person I just met! Good thing I'm still a baby and he disappeared. Otherwise I would have made myself a fool. Scratch that. It is a bad thing that I'm a baby, yet good thing that he is away.

Time ticked by, so I decided to reminisce on my previous life and then recollect my knowledge from school and university. My life had been somewhat good. I had had both parents and we had enough money to live by, not wealthy, but not poor either. My mother was a psychologist while father was a teacher. They wanted me to have good marks and I tried to keep them good, however on P.E. I barely scratched an avarage. My major was arts. I could draw fairly well and write a decent short story for literature class, however my passion was cello. The deep notes of cello resonated through my mind and body, letting me relax after a stressful day, since even going with the flow could be stressful. Usually I played in the evenings before bed.

Anyway, my life was somewhat good till it happened. I had been kidnapped and transported who-knows-where. I had been raped, which was quite a shocking experience, however, I didn't resist, since I understood that it would not stop them and would result in more pain than I already had been from the beating for giving a cold shoulder. However, the cold shoulder had not been intentional. I had never been very open, I was an introvert, everything happened in my mind, while my face remained impassive. The kidnappers should have been happy that I was a silent victim, not screaming my lungs out or crying pathetically. I no longer remember how (must be shock or memories starting to fade) but I managed to escape. It was winter outside, snowing heavily. It had passed at least a month from my kidnapping, since it had been still autumn when I had been kidnapped. Which meant that I had been used as a sex toy and beaten for at least a month. Okay, breathe. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. No need to start panicking about it now, since it is already over. I hope I don't get a trauma about it. I don't want to have to go to doctors and talk about it, and fabricate information to explain the sudden fear of bulky men. Hmmm... my new father was quite bulky, but I didn't feel fear from him. Must be his aura. Or the trauma has yet to settle in.

Anywho~ After escaping, clad only in knee length dress and a thin blanket (my jacket, shooes and underwear were taken away), I had walked around trying to see where I was, however, nothing was familiar, so I marched forward in random direction, hoping to find civilization that would help me. Alas, I had collapsed from cold and exhaustion and fell asleep in the burning cold.

Author note: Yes, the blond is Giotto, however, I have no idea what he is doing there. It was not my intention to put him there, he chose it himself. Oh well, time will tell his role.


End file.
